A day in the life: Arwen's Story
by Syth Colbalt
Summary: Hey, somebody's got to make fun of Arwen! I'm here to do that! This is a week in Arwen's life. Each chapter is a day! (Except for the last one, which is two chapters combined.) COMPLETE! (Currently being revised)
1. Day 1: DON'T SCREW UP!

A Day in The Life.

            Arwen's Story.

The pretty Elf-maiden's eyes popped open. So did her mouth. 

            "Lalalalalalala! I am a Pretty Elf-Maiden….Lalalala…."

            Her love, King Aragorn, walked in and said to her, "Arwen! What did I say about singing first thing in the morning?"

            "Uhhhhhhh…..I dunno."

            "You'll wake the neighbors!"

            "But….but we don't have any neighbors for miiiiiiiiles around."

            "See what I mean? We're SO close to them, and they're sure to send bowmen over to shoot at you---remember last time?"

            *Flashback*

Arwen runs around screaming, while several archers send a rain of arrows at her.

            *Flashback Ends*

            Arwen's memory came back—temporarily. "Oh yeah…oopsies!"

             "Arwen," Aragorn leaned over to the woman he couldn't believe was his wife, "You've got to behave yourself. The ball I'm holding today is our only hope. If you act---well…." He searched for a word. "Disruptively, then it could plunge Gondor and Rohan into war." 

            "What's that mean?"

            "If you screw this up, we'll all be killed."

            "Okie-Dokie!"

            *Later, 30 minutes before the ball*

            "Lalalalala again. Hi everybody!" Several people looked up at the queen, a bit puzzled. Some of the ladies-in-waiting huddled in a group to gossip about the oddity. Arwen didn't notice, but instead tried to make friends. "Hiya! What's up? I'm the Queen of Gondor! You people are from Rohan, right?"

            The most mature stepped up with a great flourishing curtsy. "Indeed, your Highness. Is there something you wish?"

            "Uuuhhhhhhhhhhhhh…….is that a trick question?"

            "Apparently not."

            "Weeeeeeell, you could do _some_thing………"

            "Anything, m'lady."

            "You people are from Rohan, right?"

            The handmaid sighed. This was going to take a while. "Yes, m'lady."

            "We-ell….could you tell me something?"

            "_Anything_, m'lady."

            "There's a GAP in Rohan……isn't there?"

            The youngest spoke now. "Yes, your Highness. The—the Gap of Rohan, if you'll excuse me for correcting you."

            Arwen was thrilled. "Really? Great! Have you been there before?"

            "Oh yes, your Highness. Many times."

            "Yaaay!" Looks passed between several people. "That's soooo cool! Could you give me some advice?"

            The mature one spoke again. Absolutely. That's why we're here. What have you to ask?"

            " We-ell, I was wonderin'…."

            The middle-lady spoke her turn. "M'lady, this has gone on for too long. We would be honored to help you in any way possible! Just ASK!"

            The crest-fallen Elf began to weep. "A-all I-I w-was gonna ask you is—is--" She gulped and sobbed at the same time, and began choking and coughing. The ladies-in-waiting whacked her on the back and she finally stopped.

            "Good gracious!" Cried the middle-maid. "It's beyond me how she became queen!" She stormed away.

            "Alright, it's okay," murmured the youngest to the pitiful queen. "Now, what did you want to ask us?"

            "O…okay…" Snivel. "Is—is…" Swallow. "Are there good clothes at that GAP?" 

            They rolled their eyes and looked at each other. Surely, this could not be Gondor's queen.

*END OF CHAPTER ONE*

I hope you guys liked that! It's silly, I know, but please review! I've got a new policy: If you review mine, I review yours! Thanx for reading!


	2. Day 2: No Memory & The Really Crummy Spe...

Disclaimer: Oops! I didn't put one of these on my last chapter! Anyway, I don't own Tolkien's works. Thank you. I also don't own FanFiction, FictionPress, NeoPets, Google, or Yahoo. **NOTE: I DO NOT OWN THE SHOVEL THEORY!!!** **IT IS ABSOLUTELY NOT MINE!!** Oh yeah. I don't own the SpongeBob quotes either, though I quite like using them. And in case you haven't noticed, each chapter in the story represents a day. There are only 7 days, meaning only 7 chapters! Waaa! Only 5 more chapters left! 

            Arwen skipped down the foyer. Yesterday her song had been "Lalalala" but today she had updated it to "Dum-dee-dum-dee-dum." 

            "Dum-dee-dum-dee-dum. I am Arwen, the Elf who should be blonde, or might be, and now we'll never know, except in our imaginations, 'cause Peter Jackson cast Liv Tyler to play me, and now everyone thinks I've got brown hair." [No offense to any blonde readers out there: this just sounds good.] She arrived at the "Yummy Hall" as she called it, but it was really just the Dining Hall. "'Mornin' everybody!" 

            A very stressed Aragorn rushed up to her and cried, "ARWEN! WHAT DID I TELL YOU?"

            "Uhhhhh….." He waited. "Don't tell me! Don't tell me!" He waited. "DON'T TELL ME! DON'T TELL ME!" He thought she had been watching too much SpongeBob again. "DON'T TELL ME! DON'T TELL ME! DON'T TELL ME! DON'T TELL ME! DON'T TELL ME! DON'T TELL ME! DON'T TELL ME! DON'T TELL ME!" It was SO Patrick.

            "Okay! Okay! Just quit! Go have breakfast."

            "Yaaay! Breaky!" She ran to her seat and dropped down. "Mmm!! PANCAKES!!!"

            Aragorn sighed. He knew she wouldn't remember—or wouldn't care. He decided to test his theory. "Arwen," he began. She stopped stuffing her face long enough for her to look up at him and give him a look that said, "Whaaaaaaaat?" He sighed and started over. "Arwen, do you happen to remember anything important happening last night?"

            *Inside Arwen's head*

Arwen prances around with a glass of red wine, her arm's linked with king Théoden's. They appear to be having fun.

            *Outside of Arwen's head*

            "Nooooooope!"

            "Nothing at all?"

            *Inside Aragorn's Head*

Arwen prances around by herself, a bottle of red wine in her hand and stains on her dress. Suddenly, she trips, and spills the blood red wine all over Théoden's white robes.

            *Outside of Aragorn's Head*

            Arwen scratched her head. "Weeeell, there is one thing…."

            "And?"

            "And….and…I tripped on piece of ice an' got covered in boo-boos!" She broke down into tears.        

            "So you don't remember dancing around with a bottle of wine, spilling on Théoden's robes, and plunging Gondor and Rohan into war?"

            "Nope!"

            Aragorn nearly cried with anxiety. But he mustered up enough strength to mutter sarcastically, "_Wonder_ful." 

            *Late afternoon. Rohan's troops have moved into Gondor and are attacking fiercely*

            Arwen was having fun. "Wheee! This is fun! We should have wars more often!" She grabbed a bow and arrow and aimed at a suspicious-looking man. 

            "M'lady!" He cried. "I'm fighting _for_ you: not against you!"

            "Oops, soooorry."

            Rytania, her maidservant, pulled her away, muttering, "Come on, m'lady—you've killed more of our men that way…" Rytania took her to her room and told her to stay there until dinner. The Elf-maiden obliged—but it would not be for long.

***

            {A section from Arwen's Diary—that day}

"_I likes the war—it's fun! We're on day one of it—I think it shood be over soon. Is that how yew spell "shood"? Oh well. Wayt! Is that how yew spel "Yew"? Is that how yew spel "Wayt"?? IS THAT HOW YEW SPEL "SPEL"??? I am criing now. Speling is to hard for me. Wayt! Is that how yew spel "Criing"???? I am criing agane. Maybee Aragorn will help me layter. Wayt! Is that how yew spel_--" 

            *Note—if we entered the whole of Arwen's entry, it would fill several large websites, including FanFiction, FictionPress, NeoPets, Google, and Yahoo. Therefore, assuming you've "got the picture" we'll just stop here. Thank you for your cooperation.*

            *End of Day Two*

Author's note: I am sorry to say, that Arwen never learned how to spell. You see, within five minutes of her idea (asking Aragorn for help.) She forgot. Instead of the "shovel" theory, we must reverse it—therefore coming up with the idea that Glorfindel hit ARWEN on the back of the head with a shovel, therefore causing permanent brain damage.

 Thus, she can't ever remember why she was at the House of Healing. "Perhaps," she thought, "I fell off my horse." Of course this theory is absurd, although this was the last sensible notion she's had since her "shovel accident."

By the way, Glorfindel DID send her a "Get well soon" card, as a kind of afterthought, although she can't ever remember why. 

In all, Arwen's past is, in a way, tragic, and it would do her us good to take pity on her, for she's absolutely raving mad now.


	3. Day 3: Of Potions, powders, and Eowyn

Disclaimer: No. I don't own his work. Thanx!

            Arwen was in tears. He had done it—Aragorn had locked her in the dungeon. "It's for your own good," he had told her. Now why had he done it? Arwen didn't remember. But I do. But that's only because I'm the author. I was there. Kind of. Um, not really…oh well. Anyway, ahem, let's get on with it.

            After writing several thousand pages of journal, Arwen grew restless. And her hand grew cramped. But she didn't remember what it was called, when that pain came into her hand. She got up and walked out of her room. She was bored: nobody had time for her, and nearly everybody was outside, "Holding the fort." 

She walked outside, but when an arrow grazed her forehead painfully, she quickly went inside. The nurse cleaned her up, and she came up with a plan. Actually, she didn't mean for it to be a plan. She just wanted something to happen. But it was actually pretty good. When she left the nurse's headquarters, she stood in the foyer a while, waiting.

After a minute or two, the Queen ran back into the small room and yelled at the top of her lungs, "QUICK!! HE'S HURT!!"

"Who?" Cried the short little nurse. "WHO?"

  "He's hurt—oh, he's hurt!" Sobbed the stupid little wretch. Such a troublemaker. The nurse ran out of the room, truly worried, and as soon as she did, Arwen ran in. Looking around, she spotted some colorful powders and potions. "Oooooh…" she murmured, "Pretty…." 

***

"Here y'go, Aragorn," said the Elf-maid happily. "This one's for you." She handed him a goblet filled with a yellow liquid. 

"Ugh…what is it?" He asked, throwing a javelin at an enemy warrior.

"Lemonade."

To prove her point, the queen shoved the goblet under his nose. He smelt it, and, seeing that it really did have the aroma of lemon, took it and drank. "'Ank 'oo," he mumbled, through a mouthful of the liquid. Then, a happy smile spread across his face, and he dropped to the ground.

Arwen bent over him and took the drink from his hand. She held it up to her mouth and said, "I didn't know it was nap time already," before she took a sip. She giggled and hiccupped at the same time, then collapsed.   

***

The pretty Elf-maiden's eyes popped open. So did her mouth. "Ooooooooh…….my head hurts….I've got a boo-boo…." 

            "Quit whining; it's your own fault you're here." Arwen looked up. A happy Eowyn looked down at her. "Comfy? Cozy? You'd better be; I'm making sure you'll be here for a loooooooong while."  

            "Where am I??"

            "The dungeon."

            "Oh. Why are you here?"

            "Just checking up on you."

            "Oh. Where am I?"

            "The _dungeon_."

            "Oh. Why are you here?"

            "_Just checking up on you_."

            "Oh. Where am I?"

            "THAT'S IT! ARAGORN MAY HAVE PATIENCE WITH YOU, HEAVEN KNOWS WHY, BUT I WON'T STAND FOR IT! No rations for you today!"

            Arwen sat there for a while, looking up at the angry maiden. Finally, she spoke. "Where am I?"

            "AAAAUUUURRRGGGHHH!!!" Eowyn stormed out of the cell.

            The Elven Queen sat still, wondering why people never answered her questions, and wondering where she was.

            *End of day 3* 

*Author's Note: Did you like it? I hope so. Don't worry; I won't keep you hanging long, though you've probably already guessed what happened to Arwen, and where Aragorn is. If you haven't, all the better, because that way it'll be a surprise. 

Again, take pity on Arwen, for she is an abused wretch, destroyed by Peter Jackson. Poor her. Maybe she does have brown hair. The world may never know.   


	4. Day 4: Digging with weed & Men

Disclaimer: AUURRHHGG!! THE VOICES!! THE VOICES!! STOP SCREAMING AT ME---OH! THE VOICES!! THEY MADE ME DO IT!! …..Hmm…..Nope, I still don't own Tolkien's work, even after all that. 

_Poke_. Aragorn felt a ticklish pain in his side. He ignored it. It was probably Arwen anyway. _Poke_. Ouch! That _hurt_! He rolled over. _Poke_. He opened his eyes. He was right. It was Arwen. But something was wrong. He looked at her wrists, her legs, and her neck. She had chains on her!

            "Look Aragorn, I'm a pow!"

            "Ughh…don't you mean a P-O-W?"

            "Uhh…. what's that mean?"

            "Prisoner Of War."

            "Oh."

            "What happened anyway?"

            Eowyn stepped up. "I'll tell you what happened. Your _wife_ fed all of your soldiers sleeping tonics and poisons. After that, it was easy for Rohan to capture Gondor."

            "Arwen! You didn't!"

            "I thought it was pretty…"

            "You told me it was lemonade!"

            "Well, it smelled like lemon, an' it looked like lemonade, so I thought it _musta been_ lemonade!"

            "Great. Just great. How many of our men died?"

            "None yet," said Eowyn, batting her eyes at Aragorn. 

            Aragorn rolled his eyes. It was going to be a long day. 

***

            Eowyn smiled evilly at Arwen. Now was the time. 

            "Soo, Arwen, how's life?"

            "Purty good."

            "Uh-huh. And how do you like Rohan being in change of Gondor?"

            "It's fun."

            "Do you think it would be fun if I changed the name of Gondor to 'New Rohan'? And everyone would buy T-Shirts saying 'I {heart} NR'?" 

            "Tha'd be good."

            "Well….what if Aragorn was MY husband, instead of yours?"

            Arwen thought about this. "Who'd be my husband?"

            "No one! Absolutely no one!"

            "You can't do that."

            "Oh? Why not?"

            "What about your uncle? Isn't he the king?"

            "Not anymore."

            "Oh. Why not?"

            "HE DIED!"

            "How?"

            "Umm…let's just say it was a tragic accident. After that, with no heirs to the throne, except for me, I became Queen! MWAHAHAHA!!"

            "He didn't have any hair?"

            "HEIR, YOU IDIOT! HEIR!" 

            "Oh. What's that mean?"

            "Heir?"

            "No. 'Mwahahaha.'"

            "It's an evil laugh, okay?"

            "Oh. Okay."

            "Arwen?"

            "What?"

            "Are you really a moron, or are you just pretending?"

            "Search me."

***

            "Aragorn….." A sweet voice called. It didn't even give Aragorn a headache—like Arwen's usually did.

            "Mmm?" He asked.

            "Shhh…I just wanted to make sure you were awake…."

            "Why?"

            "Silly. Open your eyes." He did. And what he saw amazed him. It was Eowyn, clad in a beautiful dress, her hair brained like that of an empress, with gold ribbons weaved in and out.

            "What happened to you?"

            "Gee, thanks. That was the exact reaction I was hoping for."

            "Well," said the King, "what do you WANT me to say? I mean, you're NEVER dressed like that! You're…. well…. you're a tomboy!"   

            "Oh, NICE, what a great compliment! I REALLY wanted you to tell me that."

            "Answer me! What was I supposed to do?"

            "You…" began the angry Eowyn, "Were supposed to pull me into your arms and kiss me, kiss me like I've never been kissed in all my life!"

            "Well…. I can't I'm married! But that is probably true…. most likely the only person who's ever kissed you was your uncle, and that was probably on the cheek or hand."

            "URRGHH! Men are so stupid!" The mortal stormed out of the bedchamber, slamming the door behind her. Aragorn smiled; women were so fun to annoy. 

***

            Sulk, sob, cry. Sulk, sob, cry. Sulk, sob, cry. The pattern of the Elf Queen never changed. That stupid Eowyn! She was the reason for everything… Wait. The reason for WHAT? Oh, yeah…that's right… The reason Arwen couldn't see her husband, or eat, or drink, or see daylight! 

            The dungeon wasn't a happy place, as you probably could have guessed. Arwen had gotten over the rats, and passed the time naming them. (She went trough about 49 names a day.) The only time they annoyed her was when they bit, which was often. She had found a piece of wood on the ground, and, during the time of her imprisonment, it was her best friend. His name was Weed. 

            One day, as cheesy stories sometimes like to say, she noticed something. (Well, actually, she found it THAT day, not ONE day, but that doesn't matter!) The floor was dirt! "Eew." Was her first reaction. The next one, which was really a lot more intelligent, was "I'm hungry." Finally, she actually had a thought that made sense, concerning the dirt floor. "Dig." It was very short, but that was all she needed. Grabbing Weed, she dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug (Gasps for breath) and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug and dug. After a while, she thought, "Okay, so why am I digging?" She didn't know, and the next second she had forgotten about it, so she continued digging. And digging. And digging. And digging, and digging, and digging, and digging, and digging, and digging, and digging, and digging, and digging, and digging, and digging, and digging, and, well, you get the picture.

            Finally, she had a hole big enough to do a couple of cartwheels in, and she started digging in the side, towards the wall. She didn't know why, but she dug anyway.     


	5. Day 5: Meat, Rain, & The Fiveinthemornin...

Disclaimer: Qa, E fa qaz abq Tolkien's bamv. (No, I do not own Tolkien's work)

SHE WAS FREE!! FREE AT LAST!! (It had taken the Elf Queen a little while to figure this out, but all the same, she DID manage to figure _something _out, so that makes up for any slowness on her part.)     

            She was lucky though, for two reasons. 1…Someone had forgotten to feed her so nobody saw her digging, and wonder why the floor of the cell was missing and why dirt was flying out of the not-there floor. 2…It was night when she emerged. I think I would have been suspicious if I had seen the Queen of Gondor pop out of the ground like a mole in broad daylight. If it where night, I'd probably scream and run.

            Grabbing Weed, who now looked like a not-so-surviving survivor of a horrible natural disaster/war, she ran, danced, and sang. Quite stupid of her really. It didn't matter anyway, because just as soon as she got to the most high-pitched part of her song, thunder boomed, and rain began to pour into her opened mouth, causing her to choke. Sad. 

***

            Aragorn ran down the foyer, trying not to make any sounds. He had to get away from Her! (Not to mention save Gondor from the now completely mad Queen of Rohan and her obsessive compulsiveness. A/N: Is that even a word? Oh well.) 

            He drew his sword, preparing to slay the next soldier he saw. He did. The sickening noise of death echoed throughout the hall, as the King pulled his sword out of guards and hacked at others. Her tore material off of a nearby tapestry and cleaned his now-sullied blade. The sight was gruesome one, and since this story is supposed to be funny, not gory, I had better add some comic relief so as you don't get mad at me. He looked to see whom he had killed. To his horror, two servants stood in the hall, with huge platters of meat in their hands. A ham, a turkey, a chicken, some beef, a duck, deer meat, etc… He hadn't killed soldiers—he had carved a Christmas feast! 

            "Ah, ahem," he said, trying to gain his dignity, "Tell no one of what you have seen." And he ran down the hall, and out the door.

***

            Eowyn paced up and down, up and down. She couldn't sleep. She had an odd feeling that she was missing something. She jumped, for outside there was the most horrible shuffle of feet, and a high-pitched sound that might've been a pig being tortured. Then thunder boomed, and she hid under the covers. Poking her head out, she peered around; glad nobody could see her reaction to the sound.

            Of course the shuffling-pig-being-tortured-sound was Arwen, and at that moment she began running round in circles, trying to run away from the icky wetness. 

***

            Aragorn ran outside, even though it was very wet. Eewies. He just had to get away—living with both Eowyn AND Arwen was maddening! He glanced behind him to see if anyone was following him, and he bumped into someone. It was Arwen.

            "Yippies! Aragorn is gonna save me from the ickiness!"

            "Shut up, and stop running in circles! You're making me dizzy."

            "Okie-dokie, artichokie!" 

***

Eowyn stomped down the hall in blind fury. The maids hadn't brought her five-in-the-morning-slightly-peckish-snack! That's when she came across the hallway. 

"So this is what happened to my five-in-the-morning-slightly-peckish-snack. Hmm, one of the stupid dogs must've gotten in. Oh well." She turned on her heels and went back to bed. 

Aragorn grabbed his wife by the hand and dragged her off. He went to the guards, the non-Eowyn-supportive ones, and told him his plan. Arwen squatted down and stared at the grass. She found a bug, screamed at the top of her lungs, and woke everyone for a mile about. 

Eowyn screamed after hearing the screams of the guards who had screamed when they heard the scream of Arwen. The maids screamed, hearing Eowyn's scream, and the cooks screamed, hearing the screams of the hairdressers that had screamed when they heard the screams of the ladies-in-waiting when they heard the scream of—yes—the Knights. 

Eventually, the whole castle was screaming. 


	6. Day 6 & 7: Of Feasts and Wars

Disclaimer: Do I have a son named Christopher? No. So why do you STILL question me?????!!! 

Note: This is both day Six and Seven; When Arwen wakes up it's the seventh day, or the Feast Day.

Seizing the moment, Aragorn jumped into action and yelled, "To war!" And off the soldiers went—to war with Rohan. 

Arwen, not noticing anything but the high-strung atmosphere, was bouncing off the walls. "An'—an' then, I saw a bug, an', an', I named him a name, an' his name was 'Scream' 'cause I screamed when I saw him, an', an' my husband, Aragorn, he—he said I could keep him, so I'm gonna keep him, an' love him, an' play with him, an' feed him, an' clean up after him--" Not being able to stand it any longer, one of her servants, Rynaniam, grabbed her and locked her in the nearest shed.

***

"My head huuuuurts," moaned Arwen. "Why does everybody lock me up when I'm havin' fun?"

"Arwen…? Are you alright?" 

"ARAGORN!"

"Shhh…come on…you must get ready for the Feast."

"Feeeeaaast?"

"Yes. We are holding a feast in honor of the new alliance between Rohan and Gondor. Go into your chamber. The maids will be waiting to get you ready."

"Okay."

"And, Arwen?" 

"Yes?"

"I love you."

***

Arwen was enjoying herself. It had been along time since she had been to a feast, let alone having clean undergarments. 

"Feasts, feasts, feasts….I love feasts, feasts, feasts." She eyed a bottle of red-wine; her favorite! Grabbing it, she ran out onto the dance floor and pranced around.

"Arwen!" Hissed her husband. "Stop! Stop! Remember last time?"

"What? What happened 'last time'?" Asked Eowyn. "I wasn't here." 

"Well, you se--"

"AGHHH-HA-HA-HA!!" Arwen half laughed, half screamed. 

"Noooo! Arwen! Behave yourself!"

Eowyn seized the moment as Aragorn had. "Why don't we slip away from all of this noise?"

"Uhh….heh-heh…. NO." Was the nervous reply. That's quite all right. I'm fine."

Arwen, who had become quite woozy, closed her eyes---but still kept on prancing. Not looking where she was going, she bumped into a passing servant, sending him sprawling. She hit another person in the head with her now-empty bottle, and ordered more wine be brought. Her request was fulfilled, and soon she felt even woozier than woozy. 

"Ar…ag…or…n…I….feel…s-sick…." With that, Arwen tripped again, spilt wine all over Rohan's Queen, and threw up on her at the same time. Not a pretty sight.

Eowyn screamed as loud a banshee and bellowed, "THAT WAS THE LAST STRAW, ARAGORN! THIS MEANS WAR!!"

With this proclamation, she stormed out of the place, her people following in her very steps.

"Well," said Aragorn, "Here we go again." As he caught his fainting wife.

~END~

 If we continued the story to tell of this NEW war with Rohan, we would have to explain several generations of Middle-Earth, and quite frankly, I haven't the time. All I will say is this: The pattern repeated, and Weed grew to have a wife, Escy, and three children: Dandi, Dope, and Brianna.


End file.
